Descending Into Darkness Book 1
by Skyfiery
Summary: The first in a series. The life and history of J'onn J'onnz, from his youth to adulthood: his culture, learnings, passions and life. Status: Chapter 4 up; updated on 04 08 2003.
1. Author's notes

Author's notes:  
  
This is the first part of a series about the history and life of J'onn I plan to write. I have a newfound interest in him after watching the JLA, so.  
  
I've only watched some parts of the Animated Series, read two issues of the JLA comics, and did some research on the background on J'onn on the net. However, without access to more substantial materials, I'll be prone to making frequent mistakes, so please forgive me for them.  
  
I welcome any corrections on canon mistakes. I mean, since I have nothing much at all.  
  
About the names.the general gist I came up with is that not all the martian names are unpronounceable. Some of them are, and those that have names like that are called in mind-speech.  
  
I'm terrible with forming names, so if those that are in my story are weird, please, forgive me. Or you can help me with the names forming, too. I don't mind.  
  
I'll try to update once a week, at least. But I'm really busy, so.will try *really* hard. 


	2. One: J'onn J'onnz

Disclaimer: J'onn J'onnz and all related characters belong to DC Comics. No intentional copyright infringement is intended through their use. Other characters you don't recognize are purely mine. Please ask before using them. Thanks.  
  
The title of this series is taken from Soledad's Lord of the Rings stories. Hope you don't mind, Soledad.  
  
Descending Into Darkness Book One  
  
One: J'onn J'onnz  
  
The sky above was a rich cloud of red that swirled and writhed under the high winds that blew both high up and low upon the ground. The deep red was shaded in some places by shadows that made the clouds seemed ominous and darkened the area even more.  
  
The heavy smell of water was everywhere so that even though the air moved, the moisture lingered and filled the land.  
  
"J'onn, it's going to rain. Come in," S'loal called to her younger son.  
  
"But mother, the rain feels good." J'onn raised his face to the sky and felt even more keenly the wind that broke against him, bringing the freshness that spoke of rain.  
  
"If you do not come in and you get sick, you shall not go to the Festival of Fight tomorrow. You'll miss out on a lot."  
  
J'onn grudgingly got up from his place on the dry sand, taking his holographic inducer with him. The faint light that came from it ended about a feet from the device in a small image of blue sky and brown lands instead of the red and brownish-red that was the planet of their home.  
  
"Mother, look at them." J'onn directed his mother's attention to the beings that walked that brown land. They walked on two feet, and their whole body was veiled in which brown hair that spared only their faces, hands and feet. "They look so unlike us."  
  
S'loal smiled and carried her son up, walking into the house with him. All about them, others were rushing into their homes to escape from the rain that was starting to fall.  
  
[Hello, Tree'fk], J'onn heard S'loal say to their neighbor some distance away, who had rushed out to carry in his son as well.  
  
[Hello, S'loal. I didn't see you.] Tree'fk ducked his head out of the door to give S'loal a wave, in which his son also waved to J'onn.  
  
S'loal stopped at the door to their house and flicked a switch. At the clothes rack in the garden, the air all about shimmered a little before stabilizing.  
  
"Mother, why don't you dry our clothes in the radiator? It's faster."  
  
"Because it wastes energy more than the force field does, and though we have enough energy to last us for a long time, we should still try to conserve."  
  
There was silence for a moment as J'onn took in that information as he did with others. Then he directed her focus back to the hologram.  
  
S'loal gazed at the hairy beings in that hologram that was strong and did not flicker as the technology of other races did. That image had been taken by J'onn's father-brother when the latter had gone to that land for another routine check on that race they had named 'Man.'  
  
"They are doing well," she commented to her son.  
  
Alarial walked in, and heard his wife's words. "Who are?"  
  
"Man." She nodded to the hologram J'onn held out to show his father. "Zak returned with that yesterday for our little son." She chuckled. "Bilquarion is too old for this."  
  
"Well enough after what our people once did to them," Alarial murmured. "They seem a hardy race."  
  
"They are."  
  
Alarial looked at S'loal and smiled, then turned to J'onn. "Khale will be coming soon."  
  
J'onn groaned, turning the holographic inducer off. "Why must he come? I wish to play."  
  
"You must learn how to use your mind-speech correctly, J'onn," Alarial explained patiently. "It will do you no good to let others read your thoughts. They will be driven insane."  
  
"That's what you always say." J'onn frowned. "But I cannot hear myself talking."  
  
"You cannot, but others can. And we have to block out your thoughts so that they cease causing us madness with the speed you go from one thought to another!" Alarial teased.  
  
J'onn managed a small smile as he nodded and walked to his room to keep his inducer, and to prepare for Khale's arrival.  
  
He heard Khale's voice in his mind announcing his arrival in five tilaels, and his eleven-year-old mind noted how his tutor's voice sounded more spacious. It was a confined open-mind talk, J'onn knew, having learnt this knowledge after the last time he tried to escape from his tuition.  
  
He sighed. Now his parents knew that Khale was reaching, and there was no means for him to escape from his lessons. 


	3. Two: Tuition and History

A/N: If there's any suggestions for this story, please do tell me. I'll appreciate any help. Thanks. Oh, and by the way, are there any suggestions for the name the Martians would call themselves and their planet? I'm in desperate need of them.  
  
Descending Into Darkness Book 1  
  
Two: Tuition and History  
  
J'onn sat on a force-field cushion that mould to the shape of his body as he bounced and leaned back again it. It gave way a little and then sprung back under his constant motions, until he was laughing as he always did when he used it.  
  
The room was lit dimly with a soft yellow light, for the eyes of their race were used to the dimness of the planet that was covered with thick billowing clouds that allowed little to no sunlight in. However, devices had been placed orbiting around their planet and slightly above the clouds to capture the sunlight from the young sun and beam it onto the planet so that they were at least not deprived of light.  
  
"J'onn, sit still." Khale hardened his eyes at J'onn, narrowing them when the younger one would not sit still. [J'onn, sit still.]  
  
The telepathic command carried more strength and order, and J'onn stopped his bouncing and sat meekly on the field, awaiting his tutor to start.  
  
Khale shook his head, and told the boy to lie down.  
  
J'onn did as instructed, feeling the field extend to take on the weight of his body. He closed his eyes and tried to feel for Khale's mind, to try to listen to his tutor's thoughts as everyone else could read his own.  
  
He felt nothing, but yelped as a sudden space seemed to open up before him: a chasm between two lands that held hidden things on either end. He opened his eyes to see Khale's gaze on him.  
  
"You attempted to read me, but you did not try to hide your prying."  
  
J'onn sat up, and half of the force-field bent upwards to become a backrest for him. "But I didn't even know I was reading our thoughts!" His eyes seemed to shine more brightly with excitement.  
  
"You didn't," Khale reminded him. "You tried to. Recall what you felt, and tell me."  
  
"It felt..it felt." J'onn's already deep-set brows deepened more as he frowned, staring at the sleek but dull silvery floor. ".like I didn't feel anything, but then felt more than nothing with something-many things-far, far away."  
  
For the first time, Khale smiled, and winked at the younger one. "You are doing well. Better than previous times you have tried. Tell me, what caused this?"  
  
J'onn ran his hand up and down his head's graceful curve. "Father.told me that everyone could read my thoughts, and they were driving them insane. So I wondered about your thoughts."  
  
Khale smiled even more widely. "Ah.all right." He nodded, beginning his explanation. "First, you felt nothing, which was but the nothing of a closed mind. When I allowed you a look, you felt the nothingness which was space between your mind and mine: the emptiness between two worlds. And you felt my thoughts beyond."  
  
The youngster frowned so deeply it was as if his whole face had withdrawn into his head, and Khale laughed. "Enough for now, J'onn! I will teach you much more if your progress is as good as you just did."  
  
J'onn smiled widely and started bouncing again.  
  
"Now, we must continue with our history where we left off."  
  
The bouncing stopped and there was a groan as J'onn evidently remembered the information he had to remember from books, for although his race communicated both by thought and speech, their brain had to be developed enough to support the first form of communication, which meant training both from within and between minds, and form without.  
  
"Sit back. I'll do the talking today. No books." Khale winked again and gazed out of the window as J'onn shifted to be more comfortable. The heavy curtain of rain came down as if they were many beads that moved upon silken strings, and he breathed in the fresh air sweetened by the rain that the window's force-field allowed in even as it kept out the water. "I'll test you on it another day." When he saw that the younger was ready, he began in a tone that was soft and distant.  
  
"When we were a race of about a million years, and about forty thousand after we gained consciousness of ourselves, our race was counted amongst the higher races of the universe, both near and distant. Now, our race is considered even higher than that of the Kryptonites.  
  
"About five thousand years ago, our people started having differences. After having evolved and become intelligent for so long, none of our leaders then would have thought that some of our people would begin to think differently."  
  
"Some of them used Earth as a resource and messed up with the evolution?"  
  
"Yes." Khale gazed at J'onn, trying to keep a smile from his face. "You have done your reading, I see."  
  
"That part was interesting. Zak always brought home images of those.Men."  
  
"Do not call your father-brother by his name, J'onn."  
  
"But he always tells me to!"  
  
Khale sighed, shook his head, and gave up on that topic. He then continued on. "Because of the acts of some of our people, Man will never be able to evolve to what they should have reached. Only a fraction of them will do so. And for that, our people are forever sorrowful.  
  
"We banished those who had stole secretly to Earth to the Still Zone, where they would have to serve their sentence till the judges deem it fit for them to return. And I do not think it will be anytime soon.  
  
"The rest of our people became greater philosophers, musicians and artists. We fight, but that is taken as an art, as you shall see tomorrow at the Festival." Khale winked. "But while we talk through mind-speech as well as mouth-speech, and when the need arises we share knowledge through our minds, we do not invade the minds of any of our kind, nor any of other kinds."  
  
"But the people who used Earth did, right?"  
  
"Yes." Khale's eyes glowed a pale red with anger. "They desired militaristic order with obsession. We could not allow that as well. We fought, and won. But a semblance of order was still required, and the Manhunters were formed and trained. They are our police, and they know their job."  
  
Silence reigned for a moment as J'onn took in all that Khale have said. When the latter felt that it was enough, he rose and smiled, placing a hand on J'onn's shoulder. "You are doing well enough, J'onn. We shall end here today. Maybe I will meet you at the Festival tomorrow?"  
  
J'onn smiled and nodded, starting to like his tutor. "Mother will look out for you. I'm not tall enough."  
  
Khale laughed loudly and patted J'onn on the head. "You will be soon enough. Goodbye."  
  
"Goodbye," J'onn answered, following Khale to the door and watching as his tutor activated a force-field and walk home in the rain. 


	4. Three: The Festival of Fight

Descending Into Darkness Book 1  
  
Three: The Festival of Fight  
  
The sky was a light shade of red that day, even though the clouds were still many. The air was fresh and cool instead of being warm and slightly stuffy as was the norm.  
  
Alarial and S'loal walked in front, while Bilquarion and J'onn followed.  
  
J'onn watched the people about him with anticipation, noting how many of them were dressed in tunics hemmed with gold, or red, or blue, or green.  
  
"Bil!" He called out to his sister who was already a distance ahead of him. "Can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Don't shout, J'onn," his sister said as he caught up with her. She was almost two hundred years older than he was, but in the eyes of their people, she was still a child, and he an infant. "Look at the others. They respect the Festival."  
  
That did nothing but curb J'onn for a moment. "Can I ask you something?"  
  
"*May* I," Bilquarion corrected.  
  
He nodded impatiently. "Why are they dressed in different colors?"  
  
Bilquarion raised her face to look at the 'they' her brother pointed to. "The different colors indicate their participation in different events. Red is for the artists; green for musicians; blue for inventors, and gold for-"  
  
"The Fighters?"  
  
"Yes, yes. But they're called the Dancers. We don't fight physically and hurt one another now, not after the war so long ago."  
  
"But they're all artists," J'onn protested. "Why is this called the Festival of Fight, then?"  
  
"Because the competitors must compete against one another, and in a sense, it is a fight of sorts."  
  
J'onn nodded, but his sister had already walked ahead again. He did not bother to call her back, but turned his attention to the people who bustled about him, always careful not to hit others or apologizing if they did.  
  
[J'onn? Hurry up.] S'loal called to her son through a mental leash she kept on him when they went out, for he was adept at losing himself in the crowd, and though no harm would come to him from the Ma'alacaa, the maternal instinct of any race could not be ignored.  
  
[I am coming, mother.] He followed the direction of her mind-voice, and took but a few steps, when something touched his shoulder. "J'onn."  
  
"Khale! You found me!"  
  
"Yes. Your thoughts are no less loud than before, J'onn."  
  
"I'm sorry." For a moment, J'onn thought that Khale's foul mood was rising again, and he almost flinched, but then he saw his tutor's smile, and felt that the Khale he knew in lessons and out of them were different, and decided he liked the latter better.  
  
Khale placed a hand on J'onn's back and gave the youngster a gentle push. "S'loal is calling for you."  
  
J'onn stood on his toes and searched about in the direction of his mother's mind-leash, but could not see her through the crowd. "How'd you know?"  
  
"Because I greeted her and Alarial first." Khale gave the young Ma'alecaa another push. "I will go with you, or you will be lost. This is your first time to a Festival, is it not?"  
  
"Yes!" J'onn groused. "It happens only once every twenty meorids!" He walked under the guidance of Khale's hand and S'loal's leash, searching out his family.  
  
"It takes time for the participants to train and become adept at their chosen art, J'onn," Khale said. "And even twenty meorids is still too short a time, I think." He shook his head. "There, I see Bilquarion." He walked over with J'onn and greeted the others.  
  
"We're going to the stages of Music," Alarial said.  
  
"I want to see the Fight."  
  
S'loal's brow creased. "J'onn, the participants of the Fight need a lot of focus. You may-"  
  
"I'll take you there, J'onn." Khale smiled and nodded to Alarial and S'loal. [If that is what he wishes to watch, don't deny him it.]  
  
Alarial's eyes were laughing. [You don't usually like J'onn much.]  
  
Khale exhaled in a sharp chuckle. [Yes, J'onn indeed annoys me much, but I see curiosity and an eager mind, and that endears him to me.] He winked at a confused J'onn.  
  
"Then I want to go, too," Bilquarion said. "May I?"  
  
"Let us go." Khale led the way, though Bilquarion knew also the route to take, having been at the Festival for about three times already. "Have you ever thought of joining any events, Bilquarion?"  
  
"Yes." She almost grinned. "The Fight. I've been learning the skills from Y'la'uk. I had to plead with him for very long, though."  
  
"Ah, yes," Khale agreed. "He is rarely free." He turned to J'onn. "How about you, J'onn?"  
  
"I, too, want to join the Fight." His face was deep in thought. "And the Manhunters."  
  
They passed by more people before reaching the stage that had been set up for the Fight. Seeing the younger Ma'alecaas, the older ones instantly parted ranks to let Khale lead them to the front.  
  
J'onn saw that the stage was white and unadorned except for some of the yellow amalé flowers that had been placed at intervals along the lengths of the stage.  
  
Bilquarion nudged her brother. [Why the Manhunters?]  
  
J'onn scowled at her. [Because I like it!]  
  
Several Ma'alecaas within a few feet winced and glanced at J'onn, who ducked his head and mumbled a, "I'm sorry."  
  
Khale gazed at him. [I must restrain your thoughts for the time you are watching the Fight. Will you allow me that?]  
  
J'onn nodded, and felt his mind confined within a much tighter space than he had originally felt, and was intrigued by the new experience. He poked at the boundary of the confinements, and was rewarded by a scolding from Khale.  
  
He then restrained himself as much as he could and awaited the start of the Fight.  
  
The spectators hushed instantly as two competitors stepped up onto the stage and bowed to each other. Nothing but gold gloves adorned them, and the glinting of those in the red sunlight caught J'onn's eyes.  
  
There was a moment of time without motion, as all waited in anticipation.  
  
The two Ma'alecaas moved, and a shimmering soft-yellow dome-shaped force- field came into existence.  
  
"Wha-?"  
  
Khale cut J'onn's question short, placing a finger to his own lips in a universal gesture for silence. He entered into the confines of J'onn's mind partly, ensuring that the youngster's thoughts were still encased. [What questions have you?]  
  
[Why is there a force-field needed? Why is it yellow?]  
  
[That is not a force-field, but a mind-suppressor.] Seeing J'onn still confused, Khale explained further. [The Fight occurs in stages, beginning with the physical forms. To ensure that none of the participants uses their minds at this stage-unintentionally or not-the suppressor is put up.]  
  
J'onn only nodded, eyes held by the Fight which had already started.  
  
The two combatants had circled each other for a brief moment before they moved closer together, arms held out in dual uses of strike or defend. None did; yet.  
  
Then, the first combatant snapped his leading hand out to seemingly give his opponent a quick push on the shoulder, and the other jerked back in a fluid motion, his other hand rising in a counter-strike.  
  
The first moved his head, his forearm making contact with the other's and pushing it away. J'onn saw him slid his feet behind the ankle of the second combatant, tripping him backwards while providing the leverage for his opponent to hit the stage safely and roll away.  
  
[Why does he help the other fall? In a fight, isn't one supposed to win?]  
  
[Yes.] Khale nodded. [But it is in the nature of our people to ensure the safety of his opponent to his utmost ability even in competition. We do not hurt others willingly, not like the Ma'aluk'in (1) does. Remember that.]  
  
Taken by the seriousness of his tutor's tone, J'onn gave his attention to Khale and nodded.  
  
Khale smiled and returned his gaze to the fight in an indication that J'onn should do so as well.  
  
J'onn glanced at Bilquarion to see if she had noticed their mind conversation, but she was watching the fight, taking in all she could to improve upon her own techniques.  
  
Back and forth the two went, and their fights were smooth but deceptively strenuous: J'onn could see them panting slightly.  
  
A slight gong sounded, and instantly, everything went much faster and more intriguing to everyone, even to those who had seen the Fight for many times.  
  
The second Ma'alecaa shifted into an animal J'onn recognize as the Kus'ame'e, which was found in the more remote parts of the Ma'alecaandra deserts. He had seen holographic images of them before.  
  
It was about six feet in length, its skin milky white. It had no legs, but possessed many air-expulsion chambers beneath its belly that constantly exerted air pressure upon the stage to keep afloat.  
  
The first then changed into a form of a many-tentacled being that supported itself on four tentacles and held aloft its other ten.  
  
J'onn couldn't recognize this one, but did not ask Khale about it.  
  
The Kus'ame'e combatant struck first, propelling itself through the air as if to strike at the tentacle combatant. The latter whipped its tentacles out, trying to lash its opponent out of the air. A few lashes struck flesh, but the Kus'ame'e swerved and dodged the others.  
  
The striking and dodging went on for a while, until the Kus'ame'e flew forwards towards its opponent. Tentacles whipped out, all of them hitting flesh. But the Kus'ame'e had no intention of dodging, and hit its opponent.  
  
As J'onn watched in wonder, the Kus'ame'e divided itself through its length, attached only at where its head was, and wrapped itself around the other.  
  
Tentacles reached for it and many were secured firmly around it, trying to pry it off.  
  
The Kus'ame'e changed again, becoming a creature that was very long, and green and brown in color, coiled about the body of its opponent.  
  
"It's a snake!" J'onn whispered, recognizing the creature from Earth.  
  
Bilquarion poked him.  
  
The snake ignored the stinging tentacles and tightened itself about its opponent, until it was certain the other could not move.  
  
Another gong sounded, and the yellow field suddenly vanished.  
  
J'onn gaped as the snake shifted swiftly, jerking its head to face the one of its opponent, too fast for the other to react. The snake's beady eyes flashed red, once, and its opponent lay limp within its coils.  
  
[That is named the Lathal,] Khale said as the snake shifted back into its original Ma'alecaa form amidst much applause. [It is a mild psychic shock that can only be used if there is eye contact.]  
  
J'onn saw the other Ma'alecaa slowly change back as well, and was aided in standing by his opponent. Both shook hands and smiled at each other before leaving the stage.  
  
[Why can't I change form and do the Lathal, too?]  
  
Bilquarion and several others stared at him, Khale having released J'onn's mind from its confines.  
  
"Because you have not learnt to gather your thoughts and use them well, yet." Khale started to walk, leading the children back to their parents.  
  
J'onn grinned and poked his sister. "One day, I'm going to fight you."  
  
Bilquarion poked him back with affection, and winked at the amused glance Khale gave them. "We will see who wins."  
  
___  
  
Ma'aluk'in - The White Martians/Invaders as Earth will know them in later years.  
  
***Note: FF.net messed up all my formatting, and some parts of my story aren't shown. *sobs* So I'll be trying to upload this again. Thanks. 


	5. Four: Time with the family

Descending into Darkness Book 1  
  
Four: Time with the family  
  
J'onn sat in his room, cross-legged and straight-backed. His eyes were closed, and his breathing regular.  
  
It was a week after the Festival of Fight, and right from the moment when they had left the stage, J'onn had planned to work hard so that he could master the Lathal and shape-shifting quickly.  
  
First came the Fight, he decided, then the joining of the Manhunters.  
  
Khale had given him a knowing look, and shared another with S'loal and Alarial which J'onn couldn't understand. But his tutor had abandoned some of his more traditional ways of imparting information and knowledge, and had turned his attention to training J'onn's mind, giving him history lessons through it.  
  
And for once, J'onn was more serious in his lessons than he had ever been, delighting his parents and even Khale, who tried to hide it.  
  
Now, as noises from outside tickled his ears, J'onn slowly withdrew himself from the shallow level of meditation Khale had taught him over the week. He listened for a moment to the voices, and sudden excitement at knowing his grandparents had already arrived replaced the remnants of calmness from the meditation that was supposed to control his quickly-changing emotions.  
  
"Oops," J'onn muttered for a moment before he quickly went out.  
  
"Grandmother!" he exclaimed. "Grandfathers!" He ran to his paternal grandmother and was quickly hugged.  
  
"Hello J'onn. How are you doing?" Mh'im asked.  
  
"Good!" J'onn grinned at her before hugging both his maternal and paternal grandfathers-Osiedin and P'loia.  
  
"How was the Festival, J'onn?" P'loia asked.  
  
There were groans from both Alarial and Bilquarion that interrupted J'onn before he could speak.  
  
"No!" Bilquarion waved her hands frantically. "Don't ask him that!" She pointed an accusing finger at her younger brother. "He has been raving about that for the whole week and we have gone mad!"  
  
J'onn glared at his sister as his family chuckled and laughed. Mh'im defended the youngster and also glared at the others, then patted the empty space on the seat she was on.  
  
"Tell me all about it," Mh'im said.  
  
And while S'loal, Alarial and Bilquarion prepared the food, J'onn told the whole story of the Festival of Fight to all three of his grandparents.  
  
When he finished, J'onn turned to Osiedin. "Was grandmother Q'uein a Manhunter?"  
  
The whole house seemed to grow silent and the air became heavy. J'onn saw Osiedin's face fill with grief, and sensed movement cease behind him.  
  
"Yes," Osiedin finally answered after a long silence, and his voice seemed to move slowly, as if dragged down by the weight of many memories that lay in the space between he and J'onn. "She was one of the best third generation Manhunters. When the Ma'aluk'in were banished to the Still Zone, some of them escaped, and were in hiding for a long time. The Manhunters both enforced the law amongst ourselves and tracked down all of the remaining Ma'aluk'in."  
  
"She must have been very good," Bilquarion whispered in reverence.  
  
Osiedin smiled and nodded. "She was."  
  
Bilquarion and J'onn glanced at each other, neither having the courage to ask what happened, though they knew that it must have been bad if she was not there in their presence.  
  
"The last Ma'aluk'in killed her and her partner before others caught him." Osiedin's amber eyes glowed briefly in sorrowed memories.  
  
At last, P'loial stirred and clapped Osiedin on the shoulder. "The food is getting cold!"  
  
Everyone laughed again and started to bustle about, relieving the tension and grief.  
  
Bilquarioni exchanged thoughts with J'onn, and they both sneaked into the kitchen, pouring two small cups of the highly-valued *Ulúmin* drink, and stepping out of the house.  
  
Together, they raised their cups towards the thick, billowing clouds and to the stars that twinkled beyond, out of their sight.  
  
"For you, with love, Grandmother Q'uein," they whispered together, drinking the Ulúmin before returning to the house where loud laughter and many voices talking to one another could be heard. 


End file.
